"
"My dear Geraldine," returned Prince Florizel, "I always regret
when you oblige me to remember my rank. Dispose of your day as you
think fit, but be here before eleven in the same disguise."
The club, on this second evening, was not so fully attended; and
when Geraldine and the Prince arrived, there were not above half-a-
dozen persons in the smoking-room. His Highness took the President
aside and congratulated him warmly on the demise of Mr. Malthus.
"I like," he said, "to meet with capacity, and certainly find much
of it in you. Your profession is of a very delicate nature, but I
see you are well qualified to conduct it with success and secrecy."
The President was somewhat affected by these compliments from one
of his Highness's superior bearing. He acknowledged them almost
with humility.
"Poor Malthy!" he added, "I shall hardly know the club without him.
The most of my patrons are boys, sir, and poetical boys, who are
not much company for me. Not but what Malthy had some poetry, too;
but it was of a kind that I could understand."
"I can readily imagine you should find yourself in sympathy with
Mr. Malthus," returned the Prince. "He struck me as a man of a
very original disposition."
The young man of the cream tarts was in the room, but painfully
depressed and silent. His late companions sought in vain to lead
him into conversation.
"How bitterly I wish," he cried, "that I had never brought you to
this infamous abode! Begone, while you are clean-handed.
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